The Crossover of DOOM
by Aerohead
Summary: Written with Kire Evoli - The characters of Wicked take on the characters of the Phantom of the Opera in a battle of wits, strength, and insanity
1. Default Chapter

Title: The Crossover of DOOM

Author: Aerohead and Kire Evoli

Email: in my profile

Website: In my profile

Pairing: Christine v. Glinda, Raoul v. Boq, Carlotta v. Mme Morrible, Meg v. Elphaba, Piangi v. Dr. Dillamond, Mme. Giry v. Nessarose, Andre v. Crope, Firmin v. Tibbett, Nadir v. Avaric, Ayesha v. Malky, and Misses Milla, Pfannee, and Shen Shen versus the Opera Populaire dancers

Rating: PG13

Disclaimer/Dedication: _Wicked _is the work of _L_. Frank Baum, Gregory Maguire, Stephen Schwartz, and Winnie Holtzman, while _The Phantom of the Opera_ is the work of Gaston Leroux, Andrew Lloyd Webber, Charles Hart, and Richard Stilgoe

Warning: Absolutely nothing

Genre: General, mostly humor

Summary: The characters of _Wicked_ take on the characters of _The Phantom of the Opera_ in a battle of wits, strength, and insanity.

Author's Notes: This came out of a conversation with Kire Evoli about the song "Masquerade" and how it's always stuck in our heads because of our friend. Then we started talking about what would happen if her favorite book/musical and my favorite book/musical collided…and…this idea was spawned. The "pairings" are what we came up with last night as who would fight whom. Well, except for Erik and Fiyero, who, instead of fighting, will be commentators.

Part One

Fiyero walked into the dark room, not exactly sure of where he was. He stopped to let his eyes adjust, before looking around. The room he was in was something akin to an auditorium, with two seats behind a dark oak desk

He went over to the desk and ran a hand over it, looking at the auditorium's floor. He knew he wasn't in Oz anymore, but that wasn't what was bothering him. What bothered him was that Elphaba wasn't with him, though the last thing he could remember was being with her.  
Erik glared down at the awkward figure standing on the stage. He had been waiting in his box for the rehearsals to begin. He surely wasn't part of the production, what was he doing on stage now? Had he not heard the noises? "You! What are you doing down there?" Erik no longer felt the need to hide from the performers for they all knew very well that he was in fact alive. They had also given up on trying to kill him, with the help of Christine Daaé's begging. "Rehearsals are about to begin. You can't stand there!"

Fiyero turned around and looked for the place where the voice had come from. He saw a man standing above him in the…theatre. He was on a stage? He gaped in abject horror, before clearing his throat. "I'm…I'm looking for a woman of very…peculiar looks. I don't believe you've seen her?" he said, trying his best to mimic the voice he had put on many times before not only as a prince but as the captain of the Royal Guards, also. He stared up at the masked man, waiting for an answer. "And I am not moving until I find her!" he said hotly. He had to force himself not to cross his arms like a spoilt child.

"Who exactly are you looking for? There are many women here of very… peculiar… looks." He mocked as he stood in front of the newcomer and watched as his expression changed from stubborn to confused. "Still, you need to get out of the way. Here, sit at this…" He noticed the desk that wasn't a common feature of the stage. "Desk?" His voice rose in befuddlement. "What is this desk doing here?" He asked the clueless man as he too ran his fingers over it as if it would give him an answer.

"Believe me; they're not as peculiar as Elphaba." Fiyero muttered his breath, before looking up at the other man. He was slightly shorter, even when holding himself perfectly upright, and so it was hard for him to look in the other man's eyes…eye? He shook his head, deciding not to think about it, and averted his gaze back to the desk. "Yes, it's a desk." He said blandly. "And if you don't know who she is, then apparently you haven't seen her; she'd be a very hard woman to miss, given her…skin…condition." He said delicately, flopping down into one of the chairs. "So…where am I? I know I'm not in Oz anymore…the last thing I remember is being with Elphaba in a…err…never mind." He said, waiting for an answer.

"You are In France good sir." Erik replied "You came from Oz? Where is Oz? I've never heard of it before." His nose wrinkled at the thought of a city he didn't know of and he sat down in the chair next to the man. "Also, I've never heard of anyone named Elphaba. Perhaps you're delusional? What is your name?"

"France?" Fiyero looked at the man next to him. "Well, I suppose we're both at a loss; I've never heard of France before…nor nothing off of our small island country." He shrugged, and started to play with a pen on the desk. "I'm Prince…"

"FIYERO!" He winced, and nodded.

"Prince Fiyero, of the Vinkus." He said, rather glum, before he turned. His mood lifted, but the worry in the pit of his stomach was still there as he was attacked by the petite blonde woman.

"Fiyero! Where in Oz are we?" Glinda asked.

"That's the problem…we're not. Have you seen Elphaba?" Glinda looked up.

"Elphaba? No. She left the Palace with…with you." She said, dejected. She looked up at the man sitting next to Fiyero, and cocked her head. "Oh! How rude of me! I'm Glinda the Good, of the Upper Uplands. And you are?" she asked, curtseying in her light blue ball gown.

Erik's eyes grew wide. "I'm… Erik.." He responded to the perky blonde who seemed to have too much energy for being lost. "What is Oz? Fiyero? Prince of Vinkus?" he shook his head, all of this information confusing him to no end. He looked up as a few random ballet girls roamed off onto the stage and began their stretches, hardly noticing the desk and the group that was around it. They were soon followed by an older woman carrying a large stick in her hand which she often pounded on the floor, more than needed. "Madame Giry."

The woman looked out at the desk. "Monsieur Opera Ghost?"   
"Where did this desk come from?"

"I do not know sir. It has been here since this morning. I didn't dare move it. We shall dance around it. You have company?" She asked noticing the two other figures.

Glinda looked at the dancers with wide blue eyes. "Look, Fiyero!" she gushed.

"I see, Glinda." He said, looking instead at the woman, this Madame Giry as Erik had called her. "And it's _the_ Vinkus, it's a part of the country of Oz…oh, never mind!" he said, but his eyes widened and he smiled brightly as he saw someone come onto the stage.

She was confused, and she was obviously annoyed, but it was definitely Elphaba. "Elphaba." He breathed.

"Elphie." Said Glinda tersely.

Elphaba turned and Fiyero went over to her, kissing her on the cheek for fear of hurting Glinda more. "I was worried." He said quietly.

"Where are we?" she demanded. Fiyero pointed to Erik.

"According to this man we're in France."

"…France?" Elphaba said dubiously. Fiyero nodded and pulled her over to the desk.

"This is Erik," he said to her, he turned to Erik and pointed to Elphaba. "And this is Elphaba." He said, giving an Erik that clearly said he wasn't delusional. Elphaba was staring at the desk.

"There's a note on the desk."

"There's a what where?" Fiyero asked.

Glinda's eyes widened, and she glared at the green woman. "That wasn't there before. I'm sure it wasn't." she said. "How do you always manage to do this? How can you have more innate magic than me? _I'm_ Glinda the Good, and you're…well…"

"The Wicked Witch of the West?" asked Elphaba in a monotone. "Regardless, there's a note _To Monsieur Opera Ghost and the Winkie Prince_. I'm guessing that's the two of you." Elphaba said, picking the envelope up and holding it out to Erik.

Erik took the note from the green woman, a sight his eyes had to take in for a moment. He opened it carefully trying to ignore the panting of the excited blonde who was trying to read the note over the obviously taller man's shoulder. He coughed as if to let her know that he knew she was there and read the note aloud.

Dear Monsieur Opera Ghost and Prince Fiyero,  
There has been some massive amounts of arguing over which is the better musical. We, as the deciding committee have decided to let you prove yourselves and your musical to be the best. The members of Andrew Lloyd Webber's The Phantom of the Opera and the members of Stephen Schwartz's WiCKED will be forced into a battle of the best, where you all shall compete against each other to win the reputation of 'Best Musical.' Recruit your teams wisely, and choose who is against who. The decision is all yours, for you two are the captains of your teams. Give it your all, we shall be watching.  
We leave you with much adoring affection.

"A battle?" Madame Giry asked, obviously not very fond of the idea.  
"I don't think it's meant to be a real battle." He replied staring at Glinda again who had a dumbfounded smile plastered on her face.

"A battle?" Glinda repeated, staring from Erik to Fiyero and back.

Elphaba's face had become grim, and she ran her tongue over her lower lip as she thought. "'…we shall be watching…'? So, they think our lives are something to play with?" Her dark eyes blazed. "I'd bet all the jewels on Nessarose's shoes the Wizard has something to do with…Nessarose!" Elphaba looked at Fiyero fiercely. "She's not here, is she?"

"I haven't seen her." He said, trying to appease her. He pushed Glinda over towards Elphaba gently so he could stand next to Erik. "So…this is a battle? It doesn't say of what, does it?" He turned a critical eye over the stage. "It doesn't appear that Elphaba or Glinda's main talents would be useful here."

"Oh, don't take Glinda too lightly, she could redecorate everything until they give up at the sheer amount of pink she'd use." Elphaba said. Glinda sucked in an annoyed breath.

Fiyero sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Sometimes I wish I was something inanimate; then I wouldn't have to have this problem." He muttered to himself, before turning back to Erik. "Since this seems to be your…well…'musical's' territory," he had to stop so he could get rid of the image of the Philosophy Club that decided to make itself known in his mind, "then why don't you pick your 'team' first." He said, sitting down in his chair.

"'Musical'? The only music I've ever sung are the hymns my father forced me to sing as a child to show that the Unnamed One loves all people, even the ones whom He cursed." Elphaba muttered to herself.

Erik shook his head having no idea what the three were talking about. Especially the green one. "Pick my 'team' first. Well then, Madame Giry, you're on my team."

"Oh no sir, I can't I mustn't I have ballet…I.."

"Then the chorus girls are on my team too. Where is everyone else?" Erik questioned her knowing that the set rehearsal time was nearly fifteen minutes ago. "Zere is no way I am wearing dis!" Screamed a woman who stormed on stage right through the stretching ballet girls. "It dus not fit right! I can't wear it! Nonono."

Erik rolled his eyes at the woman, very used to her usual complaints. He watched as she was followed out by the two dim-witted greedy managers. Another usual.

"Signora! Please! We can have it fixed!" The two men yelled, practically in unison

"No! I vill not…" She looked up at the desk and noticed the young foreign prince. "Oh my! Who 'ave we 'ere?" She put on her diva smile and strode closer to Fiyero.

Elphaba watched this new woman walk onto the stage trailed by the two men with little enthusiasm. However, when she started over towards Fiyero, she stood between her lover and the oddly dressed woman, her pointed face holding a look that would scare a brave Lion. She plucked Glinda's wand out of her hand and pointed it directly at Carlotta's chest.

"You ugly stuffed peacock, I don't need to use this to turn you into something much more useful. But you listen to me, if I were you, I would get as far away from Fiyero as possible if you want to keep that nauseating head on that shrunken neck of yours." She hissed.

Fiyero coughed, looking at Elphaba. "Elphie? Can you please not brutally maim other people?" he asked. She straightened so that she was taller than Carlotta, and forced the wand back into Glinda's hands.

"Well, we have to make our team, I suppose…" the young man looked at the two young women next to him. "Elphaba, Glinda, will you be on my team?" he asked.

Glinda batted her eyelashes. "Of course, Dearest." She said, receiving a frown from Elphaba, who merely nodded.

"Alright…well…we need more people from our, uh…musical…?" he said, confused.

There was a clatter and a scream, and three girls in party dresses much like Glinda's ball gown came out from the wings.

"_Why aren't we at Glinda's ball_?" Screeched the red-headed woman as she tripped over a dancer and glared.

"Pfannee?" Glinda asked, eyes widening.

"Really, I'm ruining my best party dress." Said the dark woman, huffing as she lifted her skirts and underskirt to walk over the same dancer, her nose wrinkled in disgust.

"How can anyone stretch like that?" asked a small blonde woman, grimacing as her small legs jumped over a second dancer.

"Milla? Shen Shen?" Glinda practically squealed as she ran over to her friends and hugged them.

Fiyero's face dropped. "Great, we get Misses MillaPfanneeandShenShen on our team." Elphaba said, deadpan.

Carlotta backed away from Elphaba. "The green woman is mad!" She screeched as she backed right into her confidence booster. "Ubaldo! Zat woman inzulted me! How dare she!" She growled as her ego built up again from the comfort of her simple minded lover.

Ubaldo patted her head gently. "I think the dress looks great."

"I zink it makes me look fat, look at zese sleeves! Eh? No no. Too fat. I want a new one." She looked up from Ubaldo's embrace to demand it from her managers who sighed and looked incredibly annoyed.

"But Christine!"

"Raoul stop it!" Christine shouted as she ran onto the crowded stage.

Erik, who hadn't spoken since he chose his first few team members looked up at the young brunette and smiled. "Christine." He called, walking towards her.

"Please! Darling! Angel! Give me another chance! I know I can please you! Besides, we haven't even really tried!" Raoul pleaded as he chased the fleeing Christine around the stage and through the crowd.

"Ick! Raoul! Stop!" She yelled as he caught up with her and grabbed her arm to pull her close. "Let me go!"

"Darling! Give me a try!" He moaned seductively as he leaned in for a kiss.

"Ach!" Christine yelped as she smacked him across the face to hesitate his actions.

Before Raoul had time to recover from the smack Erik whacked the back of his head. "It was over before it even began. Give it up." He said taking Christine into his arms and leading her over towards the desk. "All of these people are on my team." He said waving his hand in their direction.

Something clattered distantly, and Fiyero's head whipped around. He wasn't used to being in a theatre, and it was making him nervous, especially the woman Elphaba had called a peacock. He snickered to himself, before seeing someone in one of the chairs.

He squinted against the oil lamps, before laughing. "Boq?" he asked.

"I…just…fell out of the sky…" Boq said to himself, before looking down at himself. His eyes widened and he smiled. "I'm…I'm human!"

"Of course you are, why wouldn't you be?" Glinda asked, breaking away from her giggling compatriots.

"Glinda!" he said, pulling himself out of the chair. He started up to the stage, but Elphaba got in his way. "Stay away from me, Elph…you Wicked Witch." He said.

"Boq" Fiyero said, looking at his friend strangely.

"Boq, where's Nessarose?" she asked.

"How should I know? I left after you…you…" he looked down at himself. "Did you do this?" he asked incredulously.

"Will it get you to be civil?" she asked. She shrugged. "Then, yes, I turned you back into a…"

"Boq?" asked someone from the stairs.

"Nessa?" Elphaba asked, pushing past Boq to go to Nessarose. "Nessa!"

"_That's_ Nessa?" Glinda said, her mouth hanging open. "But she's…she's…"

"She's _walking_!" Pfannee said, her eyes nearly popping out of her sockets.

"_How_ did the seaweed's sister learn to walk?" Shen Shen asked.

Elphaba led Nessarose to the stage and sat her sister down into the chair Erik had been sitting in. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine…but…Avaric was here, too…he was in the lobby." She said, staring at Boq dazedly.

"Avaric's here?" Fiyero asked. "Oh, sweet Oz!" he groaned.

Avaric walked through the doors of the Opera House with a flourish and took the steps two at a time, pushing his perfect hair out of his eyes as he came, a self-gratifying smirk playing on his lips.

"Well, well, well…now, why are we here?" he asked.

"We're having a battle of wits…I have no idea why you're here for that." Elphaba said.

Avaric came up onto the stage with a mild-mannered shrug. "You're just jealous, Miss Elphaba."

"J-Jealous!" Elphaba spluttered.

"Ignore him." Glinda said.

Nessarose rubbed her heel as she looked at Fiyero. "So…we're fighting these people?" the young woman asked. Fiyero nodded.

"I guess these people will also be on my team." He said with a shrug. "So, should we pair them up to see who fights whom, or should we wait and see who else shows…"

"A theatre?" Fiyero groaned.

"This one's even bigger than the one in the Emerald City!" Two young men came down the stairs much in the same fashion as Avaric, but they were chittering to each other as they stared at the seats and the pit and mostly the stage. "Crope, we _must_ have some fun here!"

"But how are we? I don't think this belongs to the theatre program of Oz, so I have no jurisdiction over it."

Tibbett scoffed. "You have no jurisdiction over any of the theatres in Oz, you just give them your patronage…and…and…" Tibbett stopped. "The last thing I remember I was dying…why am I here?"

Erik stared in utter confusion at the amount of wild characters that now stood in his theatre. "This is insane. We're supposed battle? This is for real?" He looked back at Fiyero, the other team's captain hoping that he might have an answer.

"What is going on here?"

"Daroga? You're here too?" Erik turned to the Persian who entered from the side. "This is absolutely absurd. Who sent this note?"

"It was from 'them'." Madame Giry said specifying once again that the letter's owner was unknown.

"I know that!" Erik scoffed as he called to Fiyero. "You, I suppose we should pair up the members now? I don't think anymore should be coming.." He looked around at his team. Christine was in his arms, shooing away a Raoul who was practically drooling. Carlotta was yelling at Piangi about the green woman and her insult to her appearance. Madame Giry was trying to keep her dancers in order while her daughter Meg was attempting to steal her stick. Andre and Firmin were eyeing the two flamboyantly dressed men and Nadir was watching the stage, out of place and unsure of exactly what to do. "I guess this is my team." Erik announced as he moved back over to chairs and sat in the empty one next to the girl with the glittering shoes.

Fiyero turned to Erik at the comment, then turned back to the people he knew. Glinda, Pfannee, Milla, and Shen Shen were all giggling and talking to themselves, occasionally glancing at the dancers. Elphaba had gone over to Nessarose to help her with her ankle which appeared to be bothering her, only to discover the shoes wouldn't come off. Boq stood off to the side, watching Avaric as he surveyed not the theatre but the expense that was put into it. Crope and Tibbett were together on the stairs leading up to the stage, surveying not the expense, but the theatre itself. "Well, I suppose this is my team, as well…Lurline have mercy on me." He said. He rubbed the back of his neck. "I guess we should take our seats." He said, motioning the two chairs behind the table. Nessarose and Elphaba got away from the chairs, and Fiyero slouched down into one, rubbing his temples. "I already feel a headache coming on…"


	2. Lavender Peacocks

Title: The Crossover of DOOM

Author: Aerohead and Kire Evoli

Email: in my profile

Website: In my profile

Pairing: Christine v. Glinda, Raoul v. Boq, Carlotta v. Mme Morrible, Meg v. Elphaba, Piangi v. Dr. Dillamond, Mme. Giry v. Nessarose, Andre v. Crope, Firmin v. Tibbett, Nadir v. Avaric, Ayesha v. Malky, and Misses Milla, Pfannee, and Shen Shen versus the Opera Populaire dancers

Rating: PG13

Disclaimer/Dedication: _Wicked _is the work of _L_. Frank Baum, Gregory Maguire, Stephen Schwartz, and Winnie Holtzman, while _The Phantom of the Opera_ is the work of Gaston Leroux, Andrew Lloyd Webber, Charles Hart, and Richard Stilgoe

Warning: Absolutely nothing

Genre: General, mostly humor

Summary: The characters of _Wicked_ take on the characters of _The Phantom of the Opera_ in a battle of wits, strength, and insanity.

Author's Notes: Wow, I'm glad you liked this story, ElphabaGlinda. And, also thanks to thanks to PhantomAngel22 and CrystalPhoenix618 - okay, you know you love me and my insanity. Also, this is being uploaded by Kire Evoli as well in the Phantom of the Opera section of this website, so if you see this story posted in two different places by two different people…well, now you know why. Also, I'm writing all of the Wicked characters and she's writing all of the Phantom characters…though I'm sure you guys knew that already, so I'm sorry if I'm undermining your intellect. It's been a long day, so I really don't mean to sound rude, but I'm not in the mood to study for my RE midterm, and I have to after I upload this, so…you see my annoyance? I really do love you all.

Part Two

Fiyero looked around at the people on the stage. "Well, I guess we better start now." He said. He looked at his "team" and waved to them. "Unless you want to be in the first 'battle', then I suggest getting off of the stage now." He said.

Glinda stood there for a moment, watching as the others went into the audience to watch. "Well, if you're going to be that way, _I'll_ be the first volunteer." She said.

Fiyero sighed. "Okay, you're turn." He said to Erik.

Erik stared at the blonde "Good Witch" for a moment and then looked down at Christine. He contemplated who to pair Christine up with and figured from the witch's previous actions that she wouldn't be too dangerous. "Christine, you can go up against Glinda."

Christine blinked. "I have to fight that woman?"

"Don't worry. Just go up there." He said gently edging her towards the center of the stage. "I'll be right here."

Christine walked towards the other woman in the sparkly blue dress and smiled.

Glinda returned Christine's smile. "I'm Glinda Upland." She said, curtseying to Christine. She looked the taller woman up and down, before her smile grew Cheshire-like. "You know, you have very pretty hair, but if just won't do with that dress you're wearing." She said.

Fiyero leaned back in his chair, flipping the note he and Erik had received. "Hey…this says we have to be commentators…so…we have to say what they're doing?" he raised an eyebrow as he looked back at the stage. "Well, Glinda's…" he smacked his forehead as he watched Glinda's actions. "Oh, sweet Oz, she's giving fashion tips."

"You like my hair!?" Christine giggled. "Thank you! But my dress?" She looked down at her outfit. "You think it clashes?"

Erik smiled. "I knew I made the right choice."

"What do you think I should do to fix it?" She asked Glinda, running her fingers through her dark brown curls. "Or maybe a new dress?"

"I love your hair." Glinda said, flipping her own tightly curled hair as she back up. "But, yes…that dress…"

"I can't believe this…It's Glinda's dream come true – someone _besides_ Elphaba she can make over." Fiyero said, laying his head on the desk.

Glinda looked over Christine closely. "With your skin tone and hair…I don't think that dress really compliments you…maybe something…pink? No….purple? No, no…" Glinda snapped her fingers and let out a triumphant noise. "Lavender! Oh, believe me, it would be perfect to set off you skin and hair perfectly!"

Christine's eyes lit up. "Lavender! You really think lavender is my color?! It's so pretty!" She moved closer to Glinda and began to get excited like a young girl. "We should go shopping! Then you could help me pick out a nice one. In lavender, maybe a different fit too." She shrugged.

"And Christine has found a new favorite color." Erik commented on the 'battle'. "Is this what she does when she meets new people?" He asked, turning to Fiyero who looked like he had dealt with this many times.

"New people?" Fiyero mimicked, not lifting his head up. "No, she's just like this all the time." He rolled his eyes. "You should have seen the wall of shoes she had in her dormitory at University."

Glinda's mouth hung open, and she squealed. "We should! I'd love to see the shops in…where are we? Oh, yes, France! I'm sure they're much better than the ones we have in Gillikin." She looked at the cut of Christine's dress, before nodding. "And there are different shades of lavender, too. We could get you dresses for all different occasions and seasons!"

"At least she's no longer trying to get Oz to change the guards' uniforms from green to purple to look more ostentatious." Fiyero muttered, before sitting up. "And Glinda has perhaps found her shopping equal."

"Oh! That would be wonderful!" Christine cheered. "And perhaps, we could find one for you too!?"

"Did you say, 'wall of shoes'?" Erik questioned in disbelief as he watched the two girls gleam in excitement. "This 'battle' is doing nothing to prove the better musical." He sighed and then laughed.

"There are millions of shops here in France! Maybe we could by some matching gloves and hats and oh! It'll be so much fun!" Christine smiled. "I like this battle Erik!"

Fiyero nodded. "Yes, one wall entirely of shoes of every possible color." He said as he too watched the girls. "Maybe we should get another set of people up here before they go about redecorating." He said.

Glinda beamed as she hugged Christine's arm. "Oh, that'd be lovely! Fiyero!" She whined, looking at the man she had been betrothed to. "Fiyero, can we please stay in this France place just a tad bit longer than needed? I'd love to go get a new dress or so!"

Fiyero just stared at Glinda, before waving a hand. "Whatever you want, Glinda." He said, his voice lacking emotion. He heard a snicker behind him and turned to glare at Elphaba.

"Maybe you're idea's the best, Fiyero." She said.

Fiyero's mouth hung open, and he looked from the stage to Erik to Elphaba and back. "Well…well…what do _you_ think?" he asked, side-glancing Erik.

Erik nodded. "These two will bring us no where. Why don't you both come back here and talk about your clothes." He said as gently as possible.

"Oh! Of course Erik. I'm sorry we're in your way!" Christine replied, completely forgetting what she was even out in the middle for and dragged Glinda, who was still attached to her arm, towards the desk.

"Vere iz dat green woman!?" Carlotta yelled as she paraded into the middle of the stage. "I vant to get za green woman! Vere iz she!?" She had the toughest look she could produce glued to her face as her narrowed eyes scoped the stage.

Elphaba raised one dark eyebrow. "She wants a fight? Fine!" Elphaba started to get up, but Fiyero got between her and the stairs to the star. "Fiyero, let me up there."

"Elphaba, please…" he started.

"Well, then, who else is going to fight her?" Elphaba demanded, looking back at her "team". "See, Fiyero, no one will fight her!"

"Miss Elphaba, take your seat." Fiyero put his head on Elphaba's shoulder, letting out a sigh.

"So, when did Morrible get here?" he muttered.

Madame Morrible, in her green press secretary's dress, headed onto the stage, a pinched look on her powdered face. "You, Miss, would not last five seconds with Miss Elphaba and her…powers." She frowned at Elphaba, before turning back to Carlotta. "Well?"

"Okay, Madame…Morrible versus La Carlotta." Fiyero said as he gently shrugged Elphaba into her seat and he went back into his.

"I do not vant to fight zis wrinkled old powder bag! I vant ze girl!" She hissed, pulling up her skirts in intimidation.

"You do not have any choice in the matter," Erik stated coldly. "And if you do not fight this battle, you shall turn even greener than Miss Elphaba, to match your other…toad like qualities." He said, bringing up some of the diva's most unpleasant memories.

"Fh Fh…Fine! Clear za stage! Go on! Shoo!" Carlotta began to chase the dancers and the others towards the edge of the stage. She walked back over to her competition and looked her up and down. "Alright you oversized powder puff! If you are ze only way I can get to ze green girl, then I vill have to puff you out!" she snarled, pulling back her skirts again and staring at Morrible with a look she called intimidating, and everyone else called hilarious.

"Powder bag?" Morrible repeated, scandalized.

"Powder…bag…" Fiyero said, looking at Erik. "Is she really…? I bet she is…never mind." He muttered to himself, shaking his head.

Morrible's fish-like face grew hot, and she glared at Carlotta. "Why you insolent little _girl_." She snarled, raising a hand. "I think I should teach you a lesson."

"Wasn't one of Fiyero's rules not to use magic?" Nessarose asked as she shifted uncomfortably next to Elphaba. Her sister smirked, getting comfortable in her seat.

"Yes, but Morrible doesn't know that, and neither does the peacock." She said, smirking to herself. Fiyero turned to look behind him at his lover, before looking at Morrible, panicking.

"Uh…Madame? I don't think this is a good idea…" he said.

It was too late; Morrible had already snapped her fingers, though it appeared as though nothing had happened.

"Ahahah! Notzing happened you bag!" Carlotta laughed as she pushed by Morrible, purposely knocking her shoulder into the other woman's. "Hello prince…." She said abnormally shyly as she edged towards Fiyero in her perfected strut. "Now, vere were we?" She smiled, pulling out her little fan and began to air her face. "Before zat green cur you brought it witz you barked at me!" Her eyes now narrowed at Elphaba who was practically death-staring her back. She looked back and Fiyero and tilted her head. "Hmm?"

Fiyero got up out of his chair and held up his hands to Carlotta, trying to appease both the diva and his angered lover. "Well, uh, we were -" The sound of thunder, and Fiyero moved back to his chair. "Morrible's specialty is weather." He said to Erik, watching a cloud form over Carlotta's head.  
The diva stared up at the grey cloud that was mysteriously growing over her. "Va va! Vat iz zis!? You…¦you witch!" she screamed in terror. "Get it off me! Get it off!" she spun around in circles, flailing her arms about trying to make the cloud dissipate.  
Madame Morrible looked appalled at Carlotta's comment. "I'll have you know that I'm no witch; I'm a public educator." She said, crossing her arms over her chest.  
Fiyero watched. "Should we stop this?"  
Erik couldn't take his off the two arguing women. "It depends, what is Madame Morrible capable of? Could she rid me of that woman forever?" He waited for Fiyero's answer before he decided what to do with this battle. Perhaps it didn't prove the better musical but for years he had wanted that woman to just…disappear.  
Fiyero looked at Erik. "I honestly don't know." He said finally. "Elphaba and Glinda studied under her; I majored in Life Sciences, not sorcery."  
"She can only conjure weather and lies." Elphaba said, moving away from Carlotta and the stage. She smirked when she was a good distance away, "but at least we've found a use for Morrible."  
Morrible turned to glare at Elphaba, who sat down near Glinda and Christine. Morrible turned back to Carlotta, and flicked her wrist, watching with satisfaction as the cloud thundered again, before letting out a torrent of pelting water and ice. "Oh, I'm sorry dear; did I ruin your dress?" Morrible asked, feigning apology.  
"Dis dress, I do not care!" Carlotta yelled, swatting away drops of water. "My hair!" She touched her hair that was tight and styled but now drooped and sagged with water. "And my make up." She ran her hands down her face and wiped away the wet make up on her cheeks. "That's it!" she demanded as she lunged at Morrible.  
"Wow, and Carlotta lunges at Morrible." Fiyero commented.  
Morrible watched Carlotta come at her, before side-stepping the younger woman. "A woman of your age should not be fighting like a common Munchkin." She said, before going to the wings and picking up a large, broad stick. "However, if you want to fight, I suppose I should prepare myself."  
"Zere is no time to prepare!" She said, sticking her nose up in the air. "Ze fight 'as already begun!" She clenched the stick and tried vigorously to rip it out of Morrible's grasp. "Cheap! She use za stick! Gimme zat!"  
Morrible waited until all of Carlotta's weight was on the stick and let go, sending the other woman careening. "As you wish." Morrible sighed.  
In the back of the theatre, Glinda squealed. "Could I try and turn your dress lavender?" she asked Christine.  
Christine's eyes lightened. "You can do that?!" she asked, beaming in wonder. "You could turn my dress lavender?! Oh! Go ahead! Do try!" She stood back from Glinda and held her arms by her sides. "Okay!"  
"OH! Zat evil woman!" Carlotta groaned as she used the stick to help herself up. "What does zis do?" She asked, banging down on the floor and then examining it very closely. "Itz just 'a stick!" She huffed disappointedly.  
"Glinda, don't." Elphaba said. Glinda shook her head.  
"Oh, Elphie! I can do this!" She said, starting the spell. Elphaba listened closely, muttering the correct spell under her breath. Christine's dress turned lavender, but Glinda's spell did something on stage that made Elphaba let out an odd mix of a gasp and a cackle.  
Carlotta looked out at the gasp in the audience and around the desk. "Vhy are you all laughing? I bet none of you know how to make zis stupid stick work either!" She had thought she was holding the stick a second ago, but she didn't feel anything in her hands. She looked down to see the stick on the floor along with feet that she thought were once hers. "Chicken feet? Oh my god! Zey move when…" She wiggled an arm and looked to her side to see big grey feathers. "Ahh! What is zis?" She screeched, which more or less sounded like a bird howl. Sobbing, she ran around the stage flapping her feathers. "You! Vhat have you doonnnnnne?!"  
Christine, who was admiring her beautiful lavender dress, stopped admiring and looked over at the screeching bird. "Oh!" she covered her mouth as she gasped. "Carlotta's a peacock!"


	3. Chapter Three

Title: The Crossover of DOOM

Author: Aerohead and Kire Evoli

Email: in my profile

Website: In my profile

Pairing: Christine v. Glinda, Raoul v. Boq, Carlotta v. Mme Morrible, Meg v. Elphaba, Piangi v. Dr. Dillamond, Mme. Giry v. Nessarose, Andre v. Crope, Firmin v. Tibbett, Nadir v. Avaric, Ayesha v. Malky, and Misses Milla, Pfannee, and Shen Shen versus the Opera Populaire dancers

Rating: PG13

Disclaimer/Dedication: _Wicked _is the work of _L_. Frank Baum, Gregory Maguire, Stephen Schwartz, and Winnie Holtzman, while _The Phantom of the Opera_ is the work of Gaston Leroux, Andrew Lloyd Webber, Charles Hart, and Richard Stilgoe

Warning: Absolutely nothing

Genre: General, mostly humor

Summary: The characters of _Wicked_ take on the characters of _The Phantom of the Opera_ in a battle of wits, strength, and insanity.

Author's Notes: Hi everyone! Well, I'm giving you fair warning on this chapter because it's absolutely insane. Thanks to everyone who's reviewed, and everyone at both Verdigris and the Refuge for your help and compliments – I really appreciate it. Also, if you happen to live in Worcester and have read this story – I'm watching you.

Part Three

"She's not a peacock, she's a Peacock." Elphaba said with a glower.  
Fiyero stared at Carlotta, before looking at Erik. "So, do we say Morrible won, or what? At any rate, we should get someone new up here." He said. He looked around. "Uh…maybe we should get a male up here; they're usually not as bad as girls."  
Fiyero looked around, before raising an eyebrow. "Boq?"  
Boq looked up. "Fiyero?" he said nervously. Fiyero motioned to the stage where Morrible was waiting.

"Boq, would you like to help us figure out which of us has the best musical?"  
"Not really, no." Boq said.  
"Oh please, Boq?" Nessarose asked. Glinda looked away from Christine's dress to look at Boq.  
"Oh, Biq, will you do it for me?" she asked with a pout.  
Boq shrugged finally. "Well…I need someone to fight." He said, looking at the other "team".  
Erik glared at Jen. "Well, do something?" he said. "We've been waiting here, for you, for a week!"  
"Hmph!" Jen snarled as she stuck out her tongue. "You'll do what I want when I want! Or else I'll take Christine away!"  
Rachel groaned and looked at Jen. "Could we please just get on with the Raoul bashing?" she asked, rubbing her neck.  
"If Erik gives me a hug!" She replied, batting her eyelashes.  
Rachel looked over at Erik. "Well, hug her!" She demanded, stealing the Umbrella of DOOM from under Jen's seat and holding it up. "Or no more Crossover of DOOM for any of you! You'll be stuck back in Muse and my depressing Nessa stories!" Nessarose looked aghast at the thought.  
"But. But! I'm DEAD in Muse!" Raoul whined.  
"Suck it up." Rachel muttered. "Now, hug her or else!" She said.  
"Is it really a good idea to be prodding a guy who's killed people with an umbrella?" Glinda asked. Rachel shrugged.  
"Probably not, but there really is no point to this part of the story, any way."  
"Except for the fact that we couldn't find a way to get Raoul in here. Rachel started this, and because she wouldn't let me type random junk, she started this… I think. Hey where's my hug!?" Jen whined again, sticking her nose up in the air. "This isn't going to get anywhere unless we get out of this part. And Raoul, dead is what you deserve to be. Be happy I didn't murder you sooner."  
"So…we've seemed to have established the fact that we're not going to get Raoul to fight now, since he's a little sissy boy," Rachel said, imitating Arnold Schwarzenegger, "so apparently we need someone else to go up and fight instead. Any volunteers?" she asked, looking over her team.  
"Um…I'll still go up for Miss Glinda….and Miss Nessarose, of course," Boq said, flinching away from Nessarose's glare.  
"How about no?" Rachel said. "Boy/Boy and girl/girl only." She said. "And you're paired with Raoul…"  
"Oh, fine, I'll go!" Nessarose said, standing. "For you, Boq, of course."  
"Of course." Boq said, deflated.  
"Can we go now?" Rachel whined, looking at Jen. "We're not even supposed to be in this story!"  
Jen wrinkled her nose. "I still didn't get my hug… hey!? Is that Andre wearing a pink shawl over there?" Her eyes widened in fear. "Does this scare anyone else?"  
"Yes." Said Rachel.  
"No." Said Crope and Tibbett together.  
"Ah, Monsieur Firmin! Do you really think it's my color?" Andre said, spinning with the sway of the shawl."  
A wide smile crept across the other manager's face. "Why, yes! It suits your complexion perfectly! Who did you get in from!?"  
"One of those funny men over there." He replied, pointing to the flamboyant foreign men and spinning with the shawl again. "It is lovely!"  
Crope smirked at Tibbett and elbowed him in the side. "These men are more interesting then the Emerald City and Shiz fellows aren't they?" He asked with a smirk.  
Tibbett nodded. "Yes, I believe they are quite…amusing."  
Avaric, who had been sitting next to his book-version compatriots, got up, disgusted. "I don't know either of you." He said.  
"Ah, that's where you're wrong, Avaric. See, it's all right here." Elphaba said, holding up a beaten up copy of _Wicked_.  
"Hey! Give that back!" Rachel said, grabbing her book from the green witch. "Jen, get your hug and please let's get out of here; this is getting too weird." She said.  
"MY EYES! MY EYESSSSSSSS!" Jen screamed running around like Carlotta with her head cut off.  
"I take offense to ZAT!" Carlotta screeched sticking up her gray tail feathers.  
"Andre and pink! MY EYYYYES. THEY BURRN." She continued to scream as she ran over to Erik, hugged him tightly and cowered behind his cloak.  
"I think he looks rather dashing in pink." Tibbett said, crossing his arms. "Don't you agree, Crope?"  
"Yes, wholeheartedly. Are you really that biased towards the stronger sex, miss?"  
Rachel snorted. "'The stronger sex'? In whose opinion? Hopefully not yours." She said. She stormed over towards Jen and pointed to the exit of the Opera Populaire. "You and I are out of here, now! You can have Erik back at the end of the story." She said, looking up at Erik.  
Jen sniffled. "But…but… I don't know my way around Paris. And, the end of the chapter? How long is that going to take considering we haven't even started the actual part of the chapter? And… and, I have him right now!! Would you wait till the end of the chapter to have Fiyero, who actually hasn't even noticed that you are here?"  
"I've noticed; I've just been hoping this chapter would continue so I can get out of here." Fiyero said, leaning against the oak table. "Uh…that was Nessarose now, not Boq, right?"  
Rachel stuck her tongue out at Jen. "At least my fandom wants to do something productive instead of trying on pink shawls and being hugged!" She said.  
"We'd actually like to try on pink shawls, too." Said Crope.  
Andre smirked. "If you come here, we could share it!"  
"Heavens! I'm staying RIGHT HERE!" Jen screamed again as she hid behind Erik's cloak even more.  
Crope and Tibbett looked at each other, before starting to get up. "Oh no you don't. Sit, stay, and be good little flamboyant boys _on your own_." Rachel said, pointing the stolen umbrella at them.  
Nessarose grabbed the umbrella as she went up onto the stage. "I believe that's mine." She pointed out.  
"Eh…right." Rachel said, deflating somewhat. Crope and Tibbett shared equally unnerving smirks before getting up and going over to Andre and Firmin.  
"Oh, Lord." Rachel said, hugging Fiyero. "This is so not what I had planned for this chapter." She muttered into his chest - well, what she could reach of it.  
"It isn't exactly what I had in mind either." Jen moaned. "But we knew what Andre and Firmin were like before this chapter." She shivered as she remembered that dreaded message board thread. "Erik started it, he had to talk to me! It's all your fault!" She directed at Erik, hugging him tighter not actually meaning it, thinking that any phangirl who reads this story is going to come after her a thousand fold because she is hugging him in the first place. "Oh heavens! This story is so off track."  
"No, really." Rachel said, deadpan, as she looked up. She snuck a glance in Elphaba's direction and, satisfied that the green woman was reading Gregory Maguire's book, pulled Fiyero closer. "I think Nessa's ready to fight…maybe we should go away and let her fight Giry." She looked up at Fiyero. "On the other hand…"

There came a loud series of thumps on the stage. "I will fight! I cannot stand this anymore." Giry howled as she stopped her thumping realizing that everyone was now paying attention to her. "Enough of this craziness and on with it." She nodded at Nessarose and clenched her stick tighter.

Fiyero disentangled himself from the author of the story and sat down heavily in his chair. "Okay, let's start this fight." He said, looking at Erik.

Nessarose held out her umbrella, and stood tall. "I agree," she said, nodding to Giry. "Let's get this over with." She steadied herself on the ruby slippers and waited for Giry to come at her.

Giry stared at Nessarose, unsure of what exactly to do. She had never fought anyone before and didn't want to just attack the girl with the stick. She picked up the stick and curled her lip.

"Hurt my sister and you'll regret it." Elphaba said, looking up at the stage.

Nessarose glared at her sister from the stage. "Elphaba, I can do this on my own." She said. She turned back to Giry. "So…how do you want to proceed in this fight?" She asked, using the voice she normally only reserved for the Munchkins.

Fiyero sighed and looked at Erik. "What _are_ this Madame Giry's strengths? I know she's a dance instructor and that might prove to be…bad, for Nessarose."

Erik stepped away from the clinging dazed girl and turned to answer Fiyero. "Well, she has the stick. She can dance…but, why would that be bad for that girl?"

Fiyero watched Nessarose for a moment or two, before putting his head on the ball of his palm. "Well, this is the first time I've ever seen, standing, I mean." Fiyero said, pseudo-cryptically, and he shrugged.

Nessarose cocked her head to the side and opened up the umbrella, leaning it on her shoulder. "Well, are we going to do anything or are we just going to stand me?" she said, giggling at how absurd it sounded, coming from her.

"She was crippled!?" Giry put her stick down and turned away. "I can't attack a crippled girl! That just wouldn't be fair! Maybe she'd like to put her new feet to use, try some ballet!?" She asked, her tone a bit more cheery.

Nessarose stared at Madame Giry for a moment, a multitude of different emotions running across her face. Finally, she blinked and looked from the audience to Madame Giry. "Well…what _is_ ballet?" she asked finally.

Giry laughed. "Ballet dear, is a type of dance! I could have my dancers demonstrate for you!"

Nessarose's eyes widened, first in disbelief, and then in admiration. "Oh, would you? I love the arts, and this could be an exceptional learning experience for me!" she said, clapping her hands together.

"Alright then!" She walked closer to Nessarose and moved her towards the edge of the stage. "Girls! Get over here and demonstrate what we've been practicing."

The ballet girls flooded the stage and began dancing their most recent routine.

"Oh no you don't!" Giry said grabbing the pink shawl and holding Andre in place as he attempted to join the dance. "You don't belong in this one."

"But, but…"

"Oh, I've _got_ to see this! The seaweed's little sister, _dancing_!" said Shen Shen, getting up. Milla and Pfannee followed close behind.

"Uh…move aside, move aside, Munchkinlander hierarchy coming through!" Pfannee said, pushing past Andre.

"And pink is not your color." Milla said, wrinkling her nose at him.

Nessarose watched Glinda's three school friends with apprehension. She shrugged, figuring they weren't going to try anything.

Shen Shen crossed her arms and stared down at the dancers.

"They're so…skinny!" Pfannee said in disbelief.

"Okay, let's see this _ballet_." Shen Shen said.

The girls continued to twirl and spin around on the stage amazing practically everyone in the theater.

Giry ignored Andre's complaints as she stilled held him in place and smiled again at Nessarose. "Do you like it?

Nessarose nodded, watching the dancers. "It's amazing!" She cooed.

Milla, Pfannee, and Shen Shen watched the dancers for a few minutes, before starting their own interpretive dance to the music the dancers were using.

The ballet girls suddenly stopped dancing at the sight of the three foreign girls and laughed hysterically. They covered their mouths and tried to stop their insane amounts of laughter. "You call that dance!?" One girl shouted out, practically in tears.

"You want to make something of it?" Pfannee growled, glaring at the ballet girl and taking a dramatic pose.

"Maybe we should have a dance off!" Shen Shen announced, taking a complimentary pose next to Pfannee.

"A dance off?" Fiyero yelled incredulously, standing up at the commentators' oak table. "Are you insane?"

"Sure! We'll dance you!" The dancers shouted in excitement, feeling very confident of their skills. "Especially if you continue to dance like that!"

Giry shook her head. "I was supposed to be demonstrating…" She sighed. "Very well, dance off!"

"Does anyone else think this is a bad idea?" Fiyero demanded, looking from the stage to Erik and back. He slunk down into his chair and crossed his arms. "Fine; but I'm having no part in this." He said.

Milla crossed her arms across her chest. "We can dance like all the best in the Emerald City."

"That's not saying much." Fiyero muttered under his breath.

"Come on; let's see what you've got!" Pfannee said hotly. Nessarose went off the stage.

"This isn't good." She said under breath.

The dancers jumped across the stage in unison and twirled on the tips of their toes. "Can you beat that!?"

Pfannee and Milla looked at each other. Then they imitated the dancers. Shen Shen rolled her eyes. She took the large puff of her party dress off and threw it to Pfannee who caught it. She fixed her underskirt, before slipping out of her high heels. She backed up, before jumping and flipping in the air.

"Sweet Oz! Where'd you learn that?" Pfannee gushed.

Shen Shen shrugged nonchalantly. "The Philosophy Club."

"Pfft!" One dancer shouted as the rest of the made faces towards the girls. "So one of you can flip." The dancers made a strange formation as they danced around each other in an intricate pattern twisting and jumping every which way.

Erik wrinkled his nose. "So, I take it they're not very good dancers? And when does a Philosophy club teach someone how to flip?" He shook his head, completely confused.

The dancers finished their little maneuver and one snarled at the girls again. "Hmm? Got something better than that?"

Fiyero turned many different colors of red and white, before putting his head on the desk. "Oh…The Philosophy Club teaches one many…eh…valuable things?" He said, coughing. "I've been once I don't intend to go back again."

Shen Shen pursed her lips. "You moved in a pattern. Oh, how original." She said aggressively.

"Um…Shen Shen? Sidebar, please." Said Milla. Shen Shen turned.

"What?"

"We don't know how to do anything else." Milla whispered.

Shen Shen smirked and pulled her two friends closer to her. They whispered together for a few moments, before they pulled apart and started to move towards the dancers in an interpretation of a group of dancing New York gangs.

The girls rolled their eyes. "And you stole that from a dance that was already used. You're just jealous because we're more fit than you!" The girl sneered, eyeing the other girls. "You wish you could be one of us!"

"Please." Milla giggled, "We're big," she pointed to Pfannee, "blonde," she pointed to herself, "and beautiful," she pointed to Shen Shen. "Why would we want to be like you, someone who can break if the wind picks up?" She sniffed.

Erik shook his head again before opening his mouth to yell. "That's enough! I need a break from all of you. Come." He demanded as he grabbed Fiyero's sleeve and led him off stage. "Take a break all of you. We'll return soon."


End file.
